


A Fanged Fabling

by whovianmuse



Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovianmuse/pseuds/whovianmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set during 1x06 "B.C." in which Beth Turner convinces Mick St. John to give her the bite. Throughout the series, Mick teaches Beth how to cope with being a newly-turned vampire. Josef Kostan plays the role of the sassy third wheel, smirking and being generally unhelpful from behind a tall glass of whiskey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flux

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, way back in 2010, so I apologize for the horrible writing style and the fact that it's first-person POV >_<
> 
> Oh, and the "updated" date is all weird because I originally posted this as a series, but thought it might be easier to read/download if it was multi-chapter fic instead.

             _Don’t you want to know what it feels like?_ Lola’s words pierced through my brain for the thousandth time. Just focus on the research, Beth. Focus.

            “PCP…bitter chemical taste. Heroine’s bitter, too,” I said, distractedly. Traces of silver, high amounts can lead to an overdose…yes, I’d heard all of this already. An overdose of silver appeared to be what caused Renee Beresford, one of the models I’d been asked to cover a story on (my mind retched involuntarily at the thought of reporting fashion fluff, compared to hard-hitting stories that Buzzwire _should_ be focusing its attention on) to fall to the floor during a fashion shoot, convulsing before death overtook her. I guess it was some sick and twisted way of getting my wish for a better story to cover.

            After several interviews with her friends and supporters, and a chilling trip to the morgue, I had concluded this much: Renee had been going to a club called Valis, where she had been served a new drug that contained a high dose of pure silver. The ridiculous things that people will do just for a high. But silver isn’t supposed to give someone a high. The lab results suggested that the silver was combined with another substance. Unfortunately, an overworked lab team and eighteen different tests warranted the other substance unidentifiable.

            It was definitely an exclusive drug, meant only for the VIP’s of the club, and Renee had been one of them. Apparently, there had been several similar cases regarding death by overdose, and all of the victims had been members of Club Valis. It took a bit of detective work, a few bribes and two hours of makeup, an uncomfortably tight red dress, and five pounds of hairspray, but I got in, and got the vial that I needed. That is, before the police showed up to shut the place down and my boyfriend Josh caught me with Mick, thinking the worst, of course. I was starting to grow tired of his jealousy and suspicions. There was nothing going on between me and Mick St. John.

            Mick was a private investigator, following the case of the drug and its creator, Lola Whittaker, and I was searching for details behind Renee’s death as a story for Buzzwire. The two cases just happened to link together. Josh made it sound like he was angry that he wouldn’t get credit for the discovery of the drug source, considering that Mick and I had found Lola before the district attorney’s office had. But I knew better. It was the same fight we’d been having over and over, and the space between us was growing more definite with each resounding slam of the door.

            It was stupid to even think about taking the drug myself, given the risks, but my curiosity was insatiable. I had to mentally slap myself for even considering the thought. But I knew that it was impossible to focus on anything else with the tiny vial of Black Crystal taunting me from its place on my desk. I turned to stare daggers at the drug for tempting me, and then shrugged it off. I was supposed to be gathering research about its possible illegal contents, not wondering what it tasted like. Or what it felt like.

            _He cares about you, that much is obvious, but he hasn’t turned you._ Lola’s voice penetrated my thoughts again, her sickeningly sweet, honey-coated voice dripping with poison. Poison that seeped under my skin so indefinitely, so easily. But, she had it all wrong. Mick and I are just...friends? Acquaintances? Two people who just happen to run into one another, time after time, month after month after month, always chasing the same case? It didn’t matter what we labeled it, we could never be together…like that. It was too risky, pushing the limits and bounds of nature with a match like us. Even what he _was_ defied nature. Humans and vamp— it didn’t matter anyway. I’m with Josh.

            And even if Mick did want me like that…I wouldn’t ever want to have to make that choice. I wouldn’t want to become one of what he is. I was only just beginning to accept the fact of their existence. I couldn’t imagine giving up all the things I adored, losing everyone I loved…even for immortality. And strength. And beauty. And—

            _I can give you that, without turning you. With this._

Black Crystal stared daggers right back at me.

            Flashes of Club Valis entered my mind. The loud, obnoxious, booming music, vibrating against every part of my body that accidentally found its way too close to the speakers. Men and women dancing, perspiring, grinding up against one another like each other’s touch was as necessary as breathing. And Lola, creator of the wild new club and its drug, in her tight, revealing dress, black as midnight, golden blonde curls cascading onto her overabundance of cleavage. She was gorgeous…just the kind of woman Mick _should_ be with.

            I’ll admit, I’m still new to this whole insane discovery, but even I could tell that she was a vampire, just like Mick. And because of her excellent heightened senses, she could see right through me. She felt my curiosity, however small and suppressed it was. She handed me the vial of Black Crystal, smirking at a glowering Mick St. John, who had insisted on coming along with me to the club that night. _Always so protective_. I tried not to smile and giggle like a teenaged girl at the thought. It was wrong to look at Mick that way.

            We had met at the club’s entrance around 11:00 p.m. last night, and he looked the same as he always did: black leather jacket, white t-shirt, black pinstripe pants, and leather boots. Light brown hair pushed aside casually, like he hadn’t bothered with it. Eyes the color of Caribbean waters, always observing. He wasn’t planning on going through the entrance like any normal person would do, however.

            I pulled him aside and whispered, “You’re going to do that cool, vampire, climbing-up-the-wall thing, aren’t you?” I smiled when he nodded at me.

            “Just being human is so lame,” I said, throwing him a sarcastic smile and an eye roll.

            “I know,” he said, flashing me a brilliant smile with his perfectly white teeth and looking me up and down, “but you wear it well.”

            My heart fluttered a bit as I watched him scale the wall of the building, so gracefully, so effortlessly, and fly, unseen, into the top window of the club, where the light was the scarcest. I wondered for a moment what it would be like, to walk through the night as though nothing could touch me, nothing could stop me, and I could be beautiful, so that no one could resist me, not even Mick St. John…

 _Try it, just once and you’ll see._ Lola’s voice rang out for the last time, echoing in my memories as I sat plastered to the computer desk in my apartment, wearing my baggy sweatpants and t-shirt. I felt thoroughly unattractive, more so than usual, compared to Lola. She knew that, and she had used it against me. A few names ran through my mind at the thought of her cockiness, the nicest of which was _arrogant bitch_. Wouldn’t it be nice, just once, to have the kind of confidence she had…?

            I couldn’t deny my curiosity any longer. I hesitantly grabbed the vial, its thick black chain coiled around its body, which was smaller than my thumb. I pried open the top and poured a tiny amount of the drug onto my fingertip. It looked like ashes, like tiny pieces of black sand; but they shone like little crystals, which I suppose is how she invented the name. _Black Crystal._   _Alright, let’s see what you’re made of._ I raised the drug to my mouth and licked my fingertip.

            A shudder ran through my entire body, as I tasted the bitter substance. Like silver infused with iron, but also with a sickeningly sweet aftertaste, as though Lola had somehow managed to infuse her voice into the drug. I took another dab on my fingertip, reasoning that the tiny amount I had already consumed couldn’t hurt me. At first, I felt nothing.

            And then the room began spinning, but just for a moment, and then I was fine.

            “Whoah,” I said out loud, trying to steady the split-second head rush. I tried to examine how I felt, how it tasted, because I convinced myself that I was taking the drug purely for research. I relaxed my mind, closed my eyes, and focused on how it made me feel. I was surprised at how much easier it was to focus. I racked my mind for similarities I could compare with other drugs I’d studied. Being an investigative reporter for an online news office allows you access and education to the strangest, and of course illegal, subjects.

            Enhanced levels of attention and observation. Adderall? No, too high school. I also felt incredibly calm. Marijuana? No, there’s no paranoia. And anyway, the calm was battling my senses for its complete opposite: excitement. Uppers? Speed? Cocaine? I couldn’t be sure, having never tried any of them. And I wasn’t about to. I was dedicated, but not dangerously so. And suddenly the room began shifting before me again, for longer this time. I grabbed at the desk for support and thought I was about to topple over, but in an instant, I was standing upright, in front of the vanity mirror hanging from my bedroom door, fully alert and in-tact. And that’s when I glanced into the mirror and really looked at my appearance.

            Nothing had changed about my appearance in the last five minutes, and the drug didn’t appear to be making me delusional (so acid is out, I noted internally), but for some reason, I just looked _good_. My lightly tanned skin was glowing, radiating youth. My hair was long, flowing, and shiny, swaying around my shoulders in tiny curls. I didn’t know my hair curled if I let it air-dry. My arms and stomach appeared to be lightly toned, and my legs were long and curvy. I couldn’t help eyeing myself up, wondering if I normally looked like this, and if I was just being harsh on myself all the time. Maybe the drug _was_ making me delusional. I spun around in the mirror, and smiled at myself. Even my goofy smile was sexy. My teeth certainly looked whiter. And my eyes seemed even bluer than they normally were, and brighter, and piercing, just like Mick’s…

            Without even thinking, I began undressing from my pajamas, letting the loose clothing fall to the floor around me. I opened up all of my drawers, finding the sexiest pair of see-through black lace underwear and bra that I could find, and put them on. I modeled around my room, throwing scarves and sheer fabric around like I was a Victoria’s Secret model on the runway. I chose the sluttiest, sexiest black dress that I owned, all the way at the back of my closet, and slid it over my shoulders. Somehow it still fit, even though I hadn’t worn it since my junior year of college.

            I didn’t bother doing anything to my hair, I just let the curls spill over my modest amount of cleavage. I was reminded of a very similar, much sexier blonde, wearing a very similar tight black dress, the night before. I turned to look into my vanity again, and I smirked. _You’re better looking than her, by a long shot_ , a little voice in my mind told me. I knew that was ridiculous, but at the time, I believed it. I put on a bit of lipstick, black mascara, and gray eye shadow for a smoky, sexy look, although…I didn’t need it.

            I slipped into my black, discount designer peep-toe heels and grabbed my purse, remembering to put the vial into the tiny inside pocket. I glanced at myself in the mirror one more time, pleased with this new version of Beth. I locked up my apartment, knowing that I would probably be gone for a while, and stepped out the front door of my apartment building, and into the warm, Californian night.

            It was warmer out than I expected, considering that it was November, but it didn’t bother me. In fact, I loved it. I tried to focus on each sense, and how I observed the world, under the influence of this new drug. Walking along was easy and simple, which was saying a lot, considering my lack of grace and the height of these heels. But I felt sexy and swift, like nothing could get in my way. The city was lit up in brilliant, colorful lights, but it felt different, more alive. Everything was brighter, like a photographer had cranked up the contrast and saturation on Los Angeles.

            I could feel the drug slowly working its way through my body. It was changing everything. I felt like I had had forty glasses of wine, minus the dizziness and the inherent need to vomit. Everything, even the cool autumn air, felt warm to my touch. My skin itself felt cool, however, like someone had injected ice into my veins. I was excited, anxious. The need to reach my destination became elemental. I started walking faster, feeling the breeze kiss my face and brush my hair back beyond my shoulders.

            Everything felt like it was pulsing and vibrating around me. I could see everything more clearly, could notice every crack in the sidewalk, every imperfection in the street signs and the neon lights of the bars and clubs that I passed. Everything was beautiful, but so imperfect. It was a strange, ironic twist on reality. I kept walking, occasionally marveling at the bright new way that I saw the world.

            And then I focused on scent. Such blissful aromas I’d never noticed before; lavender and lilies buried in soft dirt in a park nearby; cheese melting into pesto wrapped up in crepes; heavenly caffeine and hazelnut from a 24-hour café. And then…something else…coming from the house I had just passed. I stopped for a moment, confused, until I realized what it was. Peppermint tea and red wine; cologne and perfume and lipstick; clothes slid gently from two bodies; excitement and wonder. I could smell their passion. I could smell their love, and their longing. I could feel their heat, their intimacy. I blushed at the way I had accidentally been so invasive, but then I reminded myself that I was an investigative reporter.

            It was all so amazing. I didn’t regret taking that drug in the slightest, and now I understood why everyone in that club was dying to get into the VIP room, and a hold of Black Crystal.

            Suddenly, I remembered why I was out here, walking the streets of Los Angeles. This drug was a murderer, and I knew exactly who would be interested in studying its effect on humans. I convinced myself that that’s why I had come all the way across town in the middle of the night. All dressed up in the sexiest outfit I owned. Under the influence of a strange new drug. But for some reason, the fact that it had killed people didn’t register completely with me. After all, I was invincible. I made my way into the posh building and pressed the elevator button for his floor. With a fresh burst of confidence, I rapped on the wooden door three times, before it opened with a light _click_.

            In the shadow of the doorway stood Mick St. John, wearing nothing but blue plaid pajama pants and a dark gray bathrobe. My breath hitched for a moment as I took all of him in. In the past few months spent together on cases, I had always tried to ignore him, never glancing too long into his eyes, or at his fit chest beneath tight white t-shirts and button up dress shirts. We were partners in uncovering crime, I suppose. But somehow that description didn’t feel right. We were so much closer than that. Friends, colleagues…none of those labels described the kind of connection that Mick and I had. But I had never let myself think of him as anything more than that, despite the constant tension that lurked beneath every conversation, every glance, every accidental touch.

            Now, well past midnight and under the spell of this drug, I thought of how ridiculous all of our hiding had been. Every form of resistance, every last shred of my resolve was breaking, and suddenly the urge to coil myself into his arms and entwine my body into his seemed all too appealing. This was the man who had saved my life from a psychotic house arrest by a female vampire when I was four, and again just a few months ago from a delusional college professor of the darker arts. The man who I fed, with my own blood, in the middle of a desert to save his life in return, and who had entrusted me with his deepest secret.

            From the moment I saw him, the night of my first case, where I walked barefoot across a fountain in a park at two in the morning, I knew. I was completely, utterly, madly, and desperately in love with him. And I couldn’t believe how long it had taken me to realize it. But I couldn’t simply come out and tell him. So I smiled and tried to act normal. Whatever normal was for us.

            “Beth,” he sighed. He gestured for me to come in, and I waltzed into his large living room that was lit up by flickering white candles. The mood was certainly right.

            “Beth,” he repeated, louder this time, “what are you—“

            “I walked all the way here,” I began. “I wanted to feel the night.”

            “Beth, why would you walk when you can…I mean, you have a car. Did you take some of that drug?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at me. He looked so concerned.

            I pouted and swayed my shoulders a bit. Was that sexy? I couldn’t tell anymore. I had started to feel slightly drunk and dizzy the moment I walked through the door.

            “It was research for my story. Tasted really weird,” I stammered.

            “Yeah, that’s because it was vampire blood. Josef was over here earlier, and we were studying the contents of the vial. Lola was his…close, personal _friend_ whom he made the asinine mistake of giving thousands of dollars to. We tracked her down though, and took care of it. Burned the lab to the ground, with Lola in it. She bought a metric ton of silver with Josef’s money. She’s been paralyzing, killing and draining vamps all throughout Los Angeles. Makes her drug with their blood. It seems that we’re the new high. Vampires, I mean.”

            That explained the sudden confidence, and the clarity of all my senses. Vampire blood. I should have recoiled at the thought, but my mind only paid attention to one part of that explanation in particular. That last part stung me. It felt like he was part of an exclusive club that I would never be allowed access to. Bribes and revealing dresses were nothing compared to the real price of membership. And I didn’t know how to even begin thinking about just how much that would cost. Eternity. The word rang out across the silence through my mind.

            “Are you alright, Beth? How much of that drug did you take?”

            “Do you feel like this all the time?” I asked, in an attempt to change the subject, diverting attention away from the foolish thing I’d done tonight.

            “Feel like what, exactly?” Mick quirked an eyebrow at me, frowning. Taking advantage of his interest in my question, I advanced, closing the space between us in three quick strides. I placed my hands on his bare chest, slowly removed his gray robe, letting it fall to the floor, and leaned my head in close to brush his cheek. It was soft, and cool, and smelled like Old Spice aftershave. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and pouted my lips a bit.

            “I feel everything,” I whispered, pressing myself up against his hard chest.

            “I could feel everything, when I was walking here tonight. It felt like individual molecules brushing up against my skin. I could feel people in their houses. I could feel their lives. Can you do that?” I asked, looking up at him curiously. His brow furrowed and looked down at me with what I thought was the same longing I looked at him. He shook his head slightly, and opened his mouth but said nothing, apparently lost for words.

            “Can you feel me, Mick? Or is it more of a scent?” I asked, closing my eyes and breathing in his wonderful scent. I had never been this close to him before, but he smelled divine, like melting chocolate and the way the air smells just after it rains. He smelled comfortable, like an old but never-forgotten lullaby. His lips were just inches from mine, and I could almost taste his breath on my tongue. Mint. Metal. Magic.

            I was well past any concept of right and wrong. This was about me and Mick, and the cracks in the foundation of my denial completely shattering. I lifted my lips to his, closed my eyes, and hoped that his morals wouldn’t get the better of him.

            They did.

            He took my shoulders in his hands, in an attempt to push me away from him. But I wouldn’t have it. I had to show him.

            “You have no idea what you’re doing,” he protested.

            “Mick,” I whispered, “you saved my life. Twice. There are no barriers between us.”

            “Yes, there are. Beth, this is the drug talking,” Mick said, grasping onto my shoulders more firmly to prevent another attempted kiss. I put my finger up to his lips and softly shushed him. I could feel the drug pulsing through my veins, slowly fading and losing its potency, but leaving this feeling, this attraction, this _need_ more powerful than ever.

            “No, this is the real me. I just didn’t realize it until now. And I like it,” I whispered softly, grazing his ear with my lower lip. I felt him shiver beneath my hands, and I pressed them more firmly onto his chest, softly dragging a finger down his hard skin. It was cold and smooth, like granite, but resilient at my touch. Each muscle flexed as I slid my finger down his stomach, abs tightening and releasing, goosebumps appearing where my fingers last touched, until I reached the elastic of his pajama pants. I toyed with the dangling drawstrings, watching his eyes light up as my hands played dangerously close to an area I never dreamed I’d be able to touch. I looked up into his eyes, asking a silent question: _Is this okay?_

And for once, Mick didn’t protest. In fact, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at me with this pained expression on his face, his brow still furrowed like he was trying to solve some ridiculously difficult case that there was no right answer to. And suddenly I felt guilty. Guilty for taking the drug. Guilty for walking over here so late at night. Guilty for willingly giving up on Josh, the boyfriend I’d committed myself to for nearly a year, despite the deterioration of our relationship over the last couple of months.

            Guilty for these all-consuming feelings for the man I’d known since I was eight. The one who had been my guardian, and had watched over me. The one who was stuck in the same age forever, bound by what he saw as a curse, rather than an opportunity. The one whose existence defied nature. The one I wanted so badly it physically hurt me. The one whose crazy, mixed up signals I always contemplated, pondering the nature of his true feelings.

            Mick took my curly hair in his hands, running it between his fingers, never breaking focus from my eyes. His forefinger came down across my cheek, brushing my jawbone, and lingering for a moment on the side of my neck. He leaned his head down onto my shoulder slowly, and buried his face into my neck. I closed my eyes and felt his warm breath tickle my skin, raising hairs on the back of my neck. His lips found the top of my neck, and he placed a small kiss just below my right ear. I turned my head to repeat his action on the base of his throat, and he let out a soft moan. _So you’ve been hiding, too._ Mick closed his eyes and a smile spread across his face, for a flicker of a second, before it turned into a grimace.

            “We should really get you home,” he said, a clandestine sadness etched into his expression. He kissed the top of my forehead, slowly turned away, and began searching for the keys to his car, clearly intending to drive me home. A wave of panic washed over me as I realized what had just happened, and the meaning behind Mick’s response. He could push all of these feelings away because he thought it was the right thing to do. And if I didn’t say something, _anything_ , then he would simply take me home, and everything would go back to the way it had been. We would continue to push our feelings away, pretend like they weren’t there, and secretly feel the same tension, the anxiety, and the lies. I didn’t want to lie anymore. Not to Mick, not to Josh, not to myself. I took a deep breath, feeling the last burst of confidence and foolishness that the drug would allow me.

            Mick was standing with his back turned to me, zipping up his leather jacket over his bare skin. I grabbed the silver keys out of his hands and placed them back on the side table where he had found them. With one quick motion I grabbed the front of Mick’s jacket and threw him against the wooden door of his apartment. I didn’t even have time to register how futile this move was, because his strength was so much greater than mine. I pressed my body up against his, harder than I had before, and took his face in my hands, placing a soft kiss upon his lips. I closed my eyes and lingered there for a moment, breathing him in.

            I slowly released, and backed away from him, leaving him looking utterly confused. I could feel the furious blush flooding into my cheeks. The shock of what I had just done, and how much I’d compromised was sinking in. I turned to pick up my purse, wanting to forget that I had kissed him and hoping that he would just take me home as planned. He didn’t want me. The pain of that realization shot through me like a silver bullet. If I had to go on pretending I didn’t feel this way, just to see him again, I would. I had to accept the fact that he and I could never be—

            Mick closed the space between us in seconds and gathered me roughly into his arms. His eyes locked onto mine for just a moment, before his lips crushed into mine, and I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Feeling Mick’s lips on mine with such…desire, was incredible. It was everything I wanted and nothing like I expected all at once.  Soft, cold, wet, delicious. My lips opened to welcome in his tongue, and it darted into the depths of my mouth. I licked his bottom lip, before sucking it into my mouth and biting it softly with my teeth. I felt his hands tighten around my waist, his fingers grasp my hips, making a chill run through my spine. I ran my hands through his hair, feeling every curl, and every wave. His hands found their way up my back, and tangled into my hair, fingers lacing in between strands.

            I darted my tongue into his mouth, feeling the shape of each tooth, the circles on the roof of his mouth, familiarizing myself with the man who felt like home. I wondered momentarily if the drug also contained ecstasy, until I realized that this was just how Mick St. John felt to me. We were connected by lips and heartstrings, curving impossibly tighter into one another’s arms, breathing harder and harder each moment, grasping each other, like animals in heat. Like vampires.

            He lifted me up into his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, as he carried me to the black leather couch in his living room. The candles flickered softly, dancing on the walls, and lighting up Mick’s face in the darkness of the room. A fantastic grin spread across his face as he set us down in the middle of the couch, so that I was facing him, legs still wrapped around his waist. He closed his eyes and kissed my lips softly, twice, before nuzzling sweetly into my neck, his breathing beginning to calm. Still breathing heavily, I leaned into his neck and brushed my lips against the side of it, leaving little kisses from the edge of his ear to the base of his throat. He moaned softly into my hair as I slid my tongue along his jaw and up to meet his lips.

            He met me with more force this time, grasping my waist and my back into the grip of his arms. I tangled my fingers into his hair, tugging slightly on the soft brown roots. I slid my tongue deeper into his mouth this time, and heard a stifled moan escape his lips. Knowing that we were already too far-gone for any of this to be considered too much, I grinded my hips softly into his, just once. He moaned into my mouth, louder this time, vibrating my tongue, so I continued, slowly bringing up the pace. The louder he moaned, the harder I pushed into him, until he was pushing back, and I could feel everything through the thin fabric of his plaid pajama pants.

            In an instant he had me on my back, hovering above me, his arms flexing, hands digging into the couch to push himself up. He was panting again, but this time he looked hesitant, unsure. I traced the lines of his arms with my finger, slid down his tightened stomach, observing how his muscles felt against my fingertips, circled around his jutting hip bones, and slowly slid my finger into the elastic of his pants. He closed his eyes and shuddered, moving lower to rest right against my body. My hands snaked around his back, holding him against me. He leaned his head on my chest and just lay there, trying to steady his breathing. Feeling Mick against my chest, his slow, rhythmic breathing, and his hands against my back, weaving in and out of my hair, was enough to make my heart sing. I felt lightheaded, amazing, fantastic, and determined.

            The love I felt for Mick was all consuming, burning through my chest, and taking me as its willing prisoner. My heart beat faster as my thoughts swirled, realizations became only too obvious, and the answer to a difficult decision became irrevocable. We needed one another. Mick’s existence to my life, and mine to his, was essential. Elemental. But there was one thing standing in our way. The only thing that divided the line between life and death, mortality and eternity.

            “Mick,” I whispered, ”I want you to turn me.”

            My heart raced and my breathing never steadied. I was unbelievably nervous, rationally terrified. But I was ready. Ready to delve into the crazy, mixed up world of his that I had only just discovered. Ready to call myself his forever.

            “Beth, you have no idea what you’re—“

            “Yes. I do.”

            I pushed up against his chest so that he understood to hover over me again. He looked down at me with a look of utter torment. I hated seeing him so conflicted. If only he could see how beautiful he was, how good, how passionate. But all he saw in himself was a monster.

            “Mick St. John, I am absolutely, completely, irreversibly, and shamelessly in love with you. I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to see it. But I can’t imagine a world where I go on and you continue to exist without me. I know the risks, and I know what I’m giving up. And I want you to turn me,” I breathed, never breaking focus from his irises. He just continued to stare at me with that same torn expression. It made me nervous.

            “That is, if you want me. I can’t pretend to know how you feel about me. You’re impossible to read, frustratingly so, and to you I’m probably just a weak, feeble, replaceable human that—“

            “Beth.” Mick chuckled, shaking his head slowly, arms still in place above me.

            “And I thought all this time that you could see right through me. It was obvious.”

            He leaned in slowly to place a small kiss on the top of my forehead.

            “I love you, Beth,” he whispered, the smile fading from his lips.

            “But I can’t turn you. I would never wish that kind of fate on you.”

            “Mick, if you don’t turn me, then fate has it set that I’ll keep aging and one day die.”

            “Beth, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice laced with pain. I slid my hand through his hair, entwining it gently in my fingers, and traced the shape of his face with my fingertip, lingering on his lips, the tip of his nose, his eyebrows. I closed my eyes, and felt his hand reach down to touch the corner of my eye. I hadn’t even registered the tear. I was too focused on the way Mick felt against me, between my fingertips. The way the drug made me feel on the walk over here had nothing on my senses when I was with Mick.

            I had to take in this moment, because it would undoubtedly be the last of such closeness. If he wouldn’t turn me, then logically, there was no way that we could be together. It would be too painful when we finally had to let go. And I wasn’t ready for that kind of loss, nor to let him watch me die when my time came. I pushed against his chest, showing him that I was ready to let go, to allow us to go back to the way we’d been before I’d ever confessed how I felt. After all, we would still see each other from time to time, whenever our cases linked together. They always did somehow.

             But as much as I tried to push against Mick, he remained still.

            “You would give up everything…become a monster…just to be with me?” I felt him whisper into my neck. I nodded slowly, feeling his wavy hair tickle my forehead.

            “Why?” he asked incredulously. And for that, I had to laugh.

            “Mick, for someone with your analytical intelligence, you’re surprisingly dim,” I giggled. I looked directly into his eyes then, my smile fading and said, “I’ve been sure of this decision from the moment I fell in love with you.”

            Mick sighed and stared at me with the same saddened, frustrated expression he’d worn every time something pained or eluded him. A thousand different emotions appeared to cross his face at the understanding of my words: passion, longing, hesitance, sadness, desperation, and finally, determination. He raised me up into his arms, slowly, gently, and held me, never breaking our gaze. With one hand, he brushed my hair away from my neck, his other hand still holding onto my back. He kissed the entirety of my neck, from my ears to the base of my throat, mirroring my previous actions. His kisses felt like melting ice against my skin.

            “Beth,” he moaned. Suddenly, he plunged, and all I felt was a sharp pain as his teeth pierced my neck. I wanted to scream. I could feel the venom of his bite swirling into my veins, burning them up slowly, maliciously, like fire being pumped through my entire body. I couldn’t breathe. I felt the blood rush out of my body and into Mick, squeezing its way through the marks he’d made in my neck. The pain was unbearable, and I was starting to feel numb. The room rotated in and out of my vision, until everything went black.

            After several minutes, my eyes opened slightly, and I felt dazed. I still couldn’t breathe, and the pain in my neck was throbbing murderously. I tried to ignore it, and to focus on what was happening, wondering if I’d made it through the transformation, or if this was what death felt like. I licked my lips lazily, to find that they tasted like iron, melted hazelnut chocolate, and the way the air smells after it’s rained. It tasted like Mick. I felt around for his presence, and discovered the source of the taste, hovering right above my lips. I kissed along his the wound he had made for me in his arm, and sucked more of his blood into my mouth.

            Mick had never explained more than was necessary about the transformation process, preferring to spare me from the horrifying details of blood exchange between the newly turned vampire and his or her sire. But now, having survived the worst of it, having felt the dagger-like pain in my throat, this was easy, and not terrifying, or disgusting in the least. It was intimate, siphoning the blood from his arm into my mouth, so that our blood fused together and became one, like the pure silver and vampire blood of Black Crystal.

            Once I was satisfied, and careful not to hurt him, I slowly began to rise from where I lay on his couch. My vision was becoming clearer, and brighter, taking in the full glare of the flickering candles surrounding his living room. I felt the spot on my neck where Mick had bitten me…gone. Already healed. I smelled everything more potently, just as I had on the walk over here. And I could hear everything…the beat of Mick’s heart, his steady but nervous breathing.

            I looked up into his eyes, and was met with a curious glance. He looked afraid, impatient and worried. _Always so protective_. I breathed out slowly, and lifted my lips to his, kissing him softly, breathing in his scent. It was even more heavenly than before. He let out a sigh and held me in his arms, hugging me so hard that I thought my chest might break in half. But I knew that that was impossible. My strength matched his in equal standing now. I was stronger, faster, more alert. I felt the extraordinary senses that the drug had given me flood back into my system, permanently. Slowly, carefully, I raised my chin and opened my mouth slightly, running my tongue along the slick, sharp new canines that stood as proof of my new life as an immortal, and the beginning of eternity.


	2. Flummoxed

            There are a million different things that can happen, that all result from one choice. Maybe you got drunk and lost a bet, and now you owe a fifty-grand donation to a college in someone else’s name. Maybe you stopped to pick up a penny right before a taxi hydroplaned into the crosswalk, missing you by seconds. No matter what choice you make, or how seemingly insignificant the effect of your choice may be, it was meant to happen. And once you make that decision, there’s no turning back.

            Who would have guessed that the one person I’ve ever wanted more than anything in the eighty-five years of my existence would come knocking at my door at one in the morning, wearing a dress that was so tight it must have been painted on, and demand that I turn her into a monster? Well, I didn’t. Here she was, sprawled out on my couch, torturing me in ways I hadn’t felt in years, and begging me to do the one thing that would absolutely kill me if I failed. And believe me, I fought back. But as much as I tried to protest, as much as I had to physically battle with my conscience to keep from sinking my teeth into her deliciously appealing neck, she fought back even harder. And she won. I know, I know. It was horrible, and terrible, and wrong. But of course I did it, because I’m a horrifyingly stupid masochist, and because, oh right, I’m desperately in love with her.

            Having no prior experience on turning, I was hesitant, thinking of how to make it bearable for Beth. But I knew that that was impossible. My wedding night with my ex-wife had given me enough experience of the torturous process, and even now, years later, the memory of it still haunted me. Even when I was sure that Coraline was gone, I couldn’t escape from her. She’d fucked me over and ripped me to pieces so many times that I’d all but lost hope in the idea of love. It was ironic in a sick, twisted sort of way that Coraline’s insane attempt to win me back for the final time was the reason I knew Beth in the first place. Who would have guessed that the kidnapped little girl I’d rescued over twenty years ago would end up being the woman I fell in love with? It had weird, coincidental, and creepy written all over it, I know, but it wasn’t like it sounded.

            Throughout her life, I’d always tried to stay close enough so that if she ever needed me, I would be there to save her. And one night, several months ago, she did. Ever since, we’d been running into one another, tracking cases that always intersected. A few nights of breaking and entering together, small talk and her cute, annoying persistence and curiosity was enough to change the way I felt about her forever. It wasn’t just the need to protect her anymore. She had a definite hold on me, one that I both resented and latched onto all at the same time. At least Beth would have some idea as to what was coming. She’d known that I was a bloodsucking monster perpetually stuck at the age of 30, and she still loved me anyway. Beth wanted it, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it, too.

            I didn’t have any experience in turning, nor did I know any vampire, besides my ex-wife, who did, but I knew enough of the basics from subtle conversations with Josef, to understand how it worked. Josef always scoffed at the idea, of course, whenever I mentioned it. Not because he didn’t have faith in me, but because he thought that a few decades of living with Beth would make me resent turning her. But he and I were completely different in that way. Josef liked his options, and never got too attached to anyone of the female persuasion, human or vampire. I, on the other hand, had one option, one interest.

            After I had bitten Beth, I made an incision in my arm, understanding that it was necessary to feed her some of my blood, in order to complete the process. Horrified and scared out of my mind when she didn’t respond at first, I panicked and contemplated calling Josef. But after a few minutes, and after my heart had almost collapsed from lack of breathing, she lifted her little head, and brought my arm to her mouth gingerly, siphoning my blood. I must have looked like a fucking idiot, my smile was so huge and ridiculous. But I couldn’t help it. I brought her into a bone-crushing hug, incredibly relieved that I had succeeded and that Beth was alive. But my smile faded quickly as I took in her altered appearance, the way her fangs protruded from her mouth in an animalistic scowl, the way her eyes searched the room hungrily, irises tainted red, and I realized that the difficult part was only just beginning for Beth.

 

• • •

 

            Once I had been turned, everything I had wanted and needed before became like a desperate hunger. A hunger for blood, the need to take in every new scent, every sound unheard by human ears, every taste…starting with Mick St. John. If I thought my need for his touch was a necessity before, it was now insatiable. Feeling the new strength tear through my muscles, I roughly grabbed Mick by his shoulders and crushed my lips to his, tearing the hem of my dress as I coiled my legs around his waist. He responded immediately, grabbing at every part of me that his hands could reach, snaking around my waist, sliding up my back, tangling into my hair. With one swift motion, he had found the zipper to the back of my rapidly tearing dress and had completely ignored it, preferring instead to tear the silky fabric from my body, leaving the sad remains in shreds on the hardwood floor.

            His eyes lit up at the sight of the lacy black bra and underwear set I’d put on before the walk over here. It felt like years had passed since I’d left my apartment. The case I’d been following, Black Crystal, and the strange high it had given me felt like a dream. I wondered briefly if I would ever regret being turned, but quickly pushed the thought from my mind. Mick’s eyes found mine, and he carefully inched his fingers around my back. Finding the clasp easily, he let the lacy cups drape loosely over my breasts, and slid the black straps down my shoulders and over my arms, freeing me of the uncomfortable contraption. I pushed my chest against his, wanting to feel the new warmth of his skin.

            He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the venom that now consumed us both unleash completely, fangs sliding down in place of his normal canines. I brought his face to mine, kissing him roughly on the lips, feeling his teeth against the skin of my neck as he buried his face into my shoulder. I followed suit, grazing his neck with my lips, biting softly at his skin, letting the thrill of it all completely overtake me.  Mick was mine, and now that I was just like him, there was no turning back. I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted this, how much I’d wanted him, until now. I felt his hands slide up the length of my back and twist around to the front, covering my chest with his palms. I sank my fangs into the soft patch of his neck, moaning slightly as I did so.

            Suddenly, the wooden door to Mick’s apartment swung open, revealing a rather short man dressed in a fine black and red suit with dark blond hair and green eyes, a sarcastic smile settled on his lips. He strolled through the small dining room, as casual as though he lived here, carrying a bottle of what appeared to be red wine and two generously large shot glasses. He strolled over to the counter in the kitchen, placed the glasses on the table, and began uncorking the bottle, pouring what I now realized was blood disguised as wine into the glasses. He turned to the fridge and opened the doors, scowling as he did so.

            “No whiskey. Shame,” said the man, shaking his head. He chuckled to himself, obviously pleased with the fact that he could just break into Mick’s apartment uninvited, until he spun around to face the occupied couch in the living room. The half-filled glass slipped from his hand, and landed with a resounding crack on the hardwood floor, splattering scarlet everywhere. His mouth hung wide open in shock, as though someone had just informed him that he’d lost his status as the sexiest man in America. Frozen, wide-eyed and caught scantily clad in front whom I was beginning to realize was Josef Kostan, Mick’s best friend, we hadn’t moved from our position on the couch. Me, still facing forward and straddling Mick’s hips; Mick, shirtless, with his hands cupped firmly on my breasts.

            What a wonderful first impression.

• • •

 

            She attacked me.  Not that I minded, of course. But this was a Beth I had no idea existed. And maybe it was the result of a newborn vamp reacting to their surroundings, and the surge of my venom in her veins that made her this way, but in that moment, I couldn’t care to analyze, or stop to think about what I was doing. Funny how much had changed in the last few minutes.

            The flimsy fabric of her dress tore easily, and she didn’t seem to mind as it fell in shreds to the floor. Beth was everywhere, her soft lips finding the very sensitive places of my neck and chest. She wasted no time as she moved her hips against my lap, very aware of the effect it had on me. She clawed at my bare chest, and I couldn’t stop myself from nearly tearing into her neck again as I bit lightly along her throat and shoulders. She caught on quickly that biting was something I’d grown a liking for, and just as she had pierced my neck with her new little fangs to the point of drawing blood, the door to my apartment swung open.

            At first, he didn’t notice us, just made himself at home in my kitchen, searching my cabinets and fridge for the only thing he desired as much as blood and sex. Displeased that he hadn’t found any alcohol (which I never have, and the idiot should know better by now,) he turned around, finally noticing the two half-naked occupants of the couch. His shock was measured by the loud crash of glass and blood that scattered my just-cleaned kitchen floor. For a moment, he said nothing, and the three of us remained frozen where we were; Josef’s hands still cupped around a glass now comprised of air, and Beth, flushed and embarrassed, her heartbeats reverberating off my palms. I kept my hands right where they were; I wasn’t about to give Josef the satisfaction of seeing so much of my Beth.

            After a few moments, Josef seemed to relax. He raised his eyebrows for a moment as he fully took in the intimate scene he’d accidentally walked in on, and then his face broke out into an insane grin, and he began laughing.

            “About fucking time, man. I told you that you couldn’t resist for much longer.” He smirked, hastily picked up the cracked shot glass off the floor and placed it back on the table before turning to face us again.

            “Funny story. I’m in my apartment, none of the freshies are answering their phones, so I think, ‘Let’s see what Mick is up to.’ Thought we’d make a night of it. Tour the town, hit up a few of the new clubs I just claimed downtown, jazz and cigars, take a few shots of A-positive. But, by the looks of it, you’ve already made…plans. And by the smell of it, I should have brought three glasses.” He smiled over at Beth, who was blushing furiously, arms still wrapped around my shoulders. His eyes lingered a bit longer than was entirely appropriate on the places my hands couldn’t cover.

            “Beth,” he said, smiling. “Welcome to the dark side. Oh, you’ll hate it at first, but trust me, it gets much better.” He turned to eye me up, focusing momentarily on the loosened strings of my pajama pants, and my bare chest. His smile turned mocking and he shook his head.

            “Mick, for fuck’s sake, put some clothes on, you dirty incubus.”

            Beth started giggling and leaned her head into my shoulder, her hair tickling my neck. I smirked at Josef, and motioned for him to turn around. He just rolled his eyes.

            “Yeah, because I’ve never seen a naked woman before,” he scoffed as he turned his back.

            “Not this one, not ever,” I shot back at him. I slowly began to lift us up off the couch, Beth’s legs still tangled around my waist. I carried her into the hall that led to the spare bedroom, and brought her down gently, letting her slide against the bare wall. She turned toward the guest room, meaning to enter it, but I pinned her up against the wall, locking the curves of our bodies together. I leaned in slowly, kissing her gently on the lips, a stark contrast to what we’d been doing before, and trailed along the side of her neck, feeling her shudder beneath my touch.

            I leaned my forehead against hers and stared for a moment into her eyes. They were still the same crystalline blue, but the flecks of red were prominent, spreading from her pupils to the edge of her irises. She was thirsty, and she would need to feed before it got out of control. I smiled at her reassuringly, and she replied with a full grin. I kissed the top of her forehead, and turned to walk back out into the living room.

            “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m sorry about your dress, but honestly, it looks better off,” I whispered, smiling at her. “I hope you don’t mind wearing my clothes for the evening. I might have to kill Josef if he keeps staring.”

            Beth nodded, awkwardly attempting to cover herself up as she stood there in her skimpy black underwear. It took every ounce of self-control to tear my eyes away from her waist and the way the lace hugged her thighs. I traveled back into the living room, where I found Josef sitting comfortably on my couch with a newly filled glass, holding up one of the shreds of Beth’s dress and smirking.

            “So,” he said. “You’ve had a productive evening.” And then his expression turned serious.

            “Oh God, I’m not sitting in anything, am I?” He shifted in his seat, nearly spilling blood all over my leather couch.

            “It’s not like that, you asshole,” I said, annoyed.

            “Right. Of course it’s not. Then what the hell do you call what I just walked in on?” He raised his eyebrows.

            “I turned Beth,” I said simply, feeling the need to confirm it out loud.

            “Thank you for informing me. It wasn’t at all obvious,” Josef scoffed. I ran my fingers through my already disheveled hair and turned to face him. But before I could speak, he cut me off.

            “Mick, I’ve known you, what, fifty years now? Even when you were with Coraline, I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at Beth. No, it wasn’t stupid. You’ve wanted this. I could tell without you dropping painfully obvious hints whenever we discussed it. You’re in love; you would’ve done it sooner or later. So, stop sulking and hating what you are, and embrace the fact that she survived.” He smiled up at me from the couch, genuine this time, and I couldn’t help but smile back. He always knew, every time, exactly what I was thinking, and exactly what to say.

            “I’m actually thankful you walked in,” I said, and when his expression turned curiously confused, I added, “I didn’t want it to go too far. Not tonight. It’s Beth. I want it to be special.” And before I could stop him, he started laughing.

            “Mick St. John, your romantic.” He chuckled, picking up the black bra by its straps and running it through his fingers. “Lace? Nice. Classy girl you’ve got back there.” He craned his neck as though he was waiting for her to appear stark naked from the hall. I brushed past him and snatched the bra from his hands.

            “Shut up,” I spat, rolling my eyes. “I’m going upstairs to get her some of my clothes since we kind of…ruined hers. Can I trust you not to do anything stupid?”

            Josef opened his mouth and raised his finger to indicate speech, but I cut him off.

            “Of course you can’t. Stay,” I commanded. I caught a glimpse of his middle finger raised high as he sat back and sipped his drink, while I rushed up the stairs to my bedroom.

 

• • •

            Mick disappeared around the corner, and I heard the sarcastic tones of Josef’s voice engage him in conversation. It was the first time that I had a moment alone to actually think since I’d been turned, and realistically, I’d only lived about ten minutes of this existence. It was foolish, but I wondered how much my appearance had changed. I looked down at my hands, but they seemed the same as before; simple sterling silver ring on my right hand, same freckle on my left pinky finger, nails trimmed but unpainted. I was far too curious to wait for Mick to return, and so I slipped down the hallway and into what I assumed was the guest room. It was a small, dimly lit room, with one lamp on a bedside table, and a queen-sized bed with a dark red comforter in the center that looked as though it hadn’t been touched for years. For some reason, that thought made me smile.

            Once in the room, I found what I was looking for. A simple, full-length mirror hung on the back of the door. I stood in front of it eagerly, releasing my hands from their protective stance over my chest and letting them fall to my side. It was remarkable how clear my vision was, even in the meager light of the room. I looked much the same as I had under the influence of Black Crystal, only, somehow, better. My hair was the color of gold, falling in soft little ringlets down my back, despite what Mick’s hands had done to it. I was paler than I remembered being, but it wasn’t too obvious. Yet. A few weeks indoors, however, would change that. It was the first time I ever regretted living in Los Angeles. My legs seemed longer, and they felt stronger. The muscles in my arms and stomach were more noticeable, but not overbearing. I felt like Aphrodite, with the strength of Athena. It was hard to believe how diet-crazy I used to be, and I nearly laughed at myself for having been so self-conscious. Of course, my diet was about to change drastically anyway; instead of craving cheesecake and Toblerones, I’d crave…

            The need became unbearable. My throat scorched, like I’d swallowed sandpaper. The moment I’d thought about it, the more I realized just how much I needed it. My ears focused on the sounds of the cars passing below. I raced to the window, hastily shoved it open, and watched as they walked along the crosswalk in the blinding streetlights, stumbling out of bars, heading home for the safety and comfort of their houses. I could hear each singular beat of their hearts, pumping the delicious taste throughout their bodies, and it took every ounce of my self-control not to jump from the window and scale the wall to be closer to the overwhelming scent. Each one smelled differently, I could almost taste them on the tip of my tongue. I placed my foot along the edge of the windowsill, preparing for my first jump. And just as I had made my selection, I felt a pair of arms seize me from behind. I gasped, and began to struggle, until a familiar scent caught my attention.

            “Mick,” I breathed. My eyes focused and I felt my breathing steady. I shrugged it off, shuddering as I realized what I had just done. No more than fifteen minutes ago, I had been one of them. An hour before, I’d been innocently walking along through the night, without the slightest idea that perhaps someone with a taste for blood had been plotting _my_ death. And I had nearly turned Mick’s sidewalk into a menu. I gripped the windowsill, closed my eyes, and tore myself away from the window, shutting it as I did so. I turned around to see Mick staring at me curiously, a worried expression on his face.

            “I’m fine, I just…lost it for a moment,” I confessed. “I’m new at this.”

            “I thought maybe you were making a run for it,” he smiled slightly. I shook my head and closed the space between us, wrapping my arms around his neck.

            “You’re here. Where else would I want to go?”

            “I think your left foot would argue differently,” he whispered. He backed away slightly and held up a pair of large navy blue sweatpants and a dark gray t-shirt.

            “Is this alright? I tried to find something you wouldn’t completely drown in. And, of course, you’ll need this.”

            He held up my black bra by one of its straps and handed it to me with a sheepish grin.

            “I’ll give you a bit of privacy to change, and then…meet us in the living room?”

            He tilted his head to one side and looked at me cautiously, as though he was afraid I might try to escape again.

            “I’ll be fine,” I said, answering his probable thoughts.

            I graciously took the clothes out of his hands and gave him a small smile. He kissed my forehead again, before disappearing through the door, and closing it behind him. I changed quickly, pulling the sweatpants up over the uncomfortable underwear, cursing under my breath for having chosen the tightest pair I own. I slipped on the bra, clasping it easily at the back, and then the t-shirt overtop. I was swimming in them, but at least I was covered now.

            On the way out of the room, I glanced into the mirror, finally noticing what I had failed to before. Dark circles had appeared under my eyes, like I hadn’t had decent sleep for weeks. But the most noticeable features were the dark red flecks scattered around my eyes, like burst blood vessels sprawling from my pupils to the edge of my irises. My breath hitched as I took in my slightly horrifying new appearance. It would definitely take some getting used to. I breathed in slowly, turned the handle, and stepped out into the hallway.

 

• • •

            Josef was settled on the couch with his overpriced Italian leather shoes resting on my coffee table when I came out into the living room. He had considerately placed the large wine bottle and three glasses out on the table. I ushered him aside and took a seat beside him, forgetting my own rules of household cleanliness and mimicking his relaxed position. He picked up the wine bottle and shook it in my direction.

            “Drink?”

            “God, yes,” I said, taking the offered glass and pouring myself a generous amount.

            “Everything all right?” he asked. I must have looked as tense as I felt.

            “Remember the time you told me about your first draining?” I grimaced.

            “Yeah,” said Josef, smiling fondly at the memory of his first night as a vampire, where he’d gotten a bit carried away and drank two and a half innocent passersby. And then his smile fell.

            “Did Beth…?” he asked, his eyes wide.

            “No, no…close, though. Caught her with her foot on the ledge.”

            “Wouldn’t that have been an interesting sight,” Josef said with a small chuckle.

            “Well, her target would certainly have been distracted,” I laughed.

            At that point, a scuffling near the hallway caught our attention, and both of our heads snapped up in its direction. Beth appeared, tripping slightly over the length of my sweatpants. She waved one of her little hands at us and smiled. I gestured for her to join us on the couch, and she practically skipped over, launching herself into my arms and settling comfortably on my lap. I kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled, giggling softly. Josef cleared his throat, catching our attention.

            “Right. I’m sorry. Beth, this is Josef Kostan. Josef, Beth Turner.”

            “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Beth held out her hand to shake Josef’s, and he looked a bit taken back by her sudden formality.

            “Good things, I hope,” he jested.

            “Of course.” She laughed.

            “Lovely to meet you as well. I thought Mick had been exaggerating when he’d described you. But I clearly see that he’s correct. Didn’t expect to see so much, of course.”

            Beth blushed furiously and turned to face me, biting her lip to hide her smile.

            “Oh? I’ve been described?” She raised her eyebrows and shot me a pointed glance.

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

            “Josef, I really don’t think we need to—”

            “But of course we do,” he cut me off, and then turned to stare at Beth.

            “He talks about you all the time. Truly a test to our friendship and my patience that I listen. Now, hang on, let me remember. I believe that ‘modern princess’ and ‘ethereal angel’ were among my favorites.”

            I opened my eyes wide at him and shook my head. Josef smirked at me, ignoring my silent protests for him to stop. Beth turned to face me again, a huge grin spread across her face. Well, if it made her smile…

             “If you’re done embarrassing me—”

            “Oh, I could continue—”

            “I think we need to discuss certain…arrangements,” I said, frowning as I stared into Beth’s eyes, the red flecks becoming more prominent. Her smile fell at the same moment as Josef’s.

            “First thing’s first,” Josef said, grabbing the wine bottle, and pouring the third glass with a generous amount of A-positive. He handed it to Beth. She took it with both hands and paused before bringing it to her lips, as though asking our permission before she drank blood for the first time. We nodded at her encouragingly, and she took her first sip, moaned softly, and closed her eyes. She had downed the glass in three gulps.

 

• • •

Liquid ecstasy. Angel food cake and chocolate mousse soaked in rum. Ambrosia. I couldn’t place a name to the fantastic taste, and settled for clichés. I was apprehensive, given that an hour ago, the thought of drinking blood would have horrified me. But in this stronger, more attractive, new body, it was bliss. I drained the glass quickly, licked my lips of the remnants and set it down on the table, finding that Josef and Mick were watching me with intense stares.

            “Well?” Josef asked.

            “Wonderful,” I responded. They smiled, first at one another, and then back at me.

            “That should hold you over for a few more hours,” Mick said, taking his own glass and filling it up halfway. He took a sip before continuing.

            “There are a few things you need to understand about us. I’ve told you everything you need to know as an outsider, about the rules of secrecy, but now that you’ve become one of us, everything gets more complicated. You’ve assured me that you were ready for this, and now there’s no way of going back, so you’re going to have to make some pretty substantial sacrifices. I know it will be difficult, but we’ll be here for you, every step of the way, to make it less painful,” he said, his eyes boring into mine as he took my hands in his and kissed them softly. I smiled slightly and nodded, not entirely sure what I was committing myself to.

            “First…after your little number on the windowsill, I can’t let you go out into public for a while, until you can…control yourself.”

            “I have a job, Mick. What am I supposed to—” I protested.

            “Beth, we all had to go through this one time or another,” Josef said reasonably.

            “Just for a little while. Settling in doesn’t take long, if you’re properly guided right away. And you have the advantage over other newborn vamps. You made the decision. Most of us are turned unwillingly,” Mick said, scowling.

            “Alright. I’ll…I’ll just have to quit Buzzwire. It’ll be fine. I was growing tired of it anyway,” I lied. Mick smiled sadly at me, but nodded in agreement.

            “You won’t be able to see your family for a while, which should be fine, considering you’ve told me that most of them live on the East coast now. And Josh…” he trailed off.

            _Josh._ A sharp pang in my heart reminded me of the fact that I hadn’t thought about him once since I’d been turned. Sweet, lovely, wonderful, attentive Josh. His smiling face swam in my thoughts, and I imagined his lips twisting into a frown at the idea of our yearlong relationship ending. I shook my head, clearing it of Josh’s pained expression. I had chosen Mick. I had chosen to become like him. And I certainly wasn’t going to dally back and forth between the two men, hurting and confusing Mick while compromising Josh’s safety. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet Mick’s. His expression was tortured. Whether it was out of jealousy or sympathy, I couldn’t be sure. I shrugged it off, and motioned for him to continue. He stared at me for a few moments longer, and then shook his head.

            “Well, right. Well, there’s…um,” he stuttered. I placed my hand on his arm, rubbing it softly, and managed a small smile. A little cough behind us alerted me to the fact that Josef was still here.

            “Just one small question,” he said, “If Beth is quitting her job and cutting off…other relations, then where do you expect her to live?”

            “Oh. Right. Actually, I had thought about that,” he said to Josef, and then turned to face me.

            “Would you be opposed to staying here for a little while?” Mick raised his eyebrows expectantly, and grasped onto my hands again, his eyes never leaving mine. I didn’t hesitate in my answer, nodding vehemently and smiling.

            “Well, I think that’s everything taken care of,” said Josef, as he set down his glass, wiped his lips on the back of his hand and started to get up. Mick nodded at him and rubbed my shoulders a little bit, as though he could sense my tension. Josef got his coat from the back of the couch where he’d placed it.

            “Once again, it was lovely meeting you,” he said, smiling politely before turning to Mick. “Mick. Congratulations, good luck, all of that nonsense. I’ll talk to you later, I’m sure. And I’ll leave this here for the two of you. Could never quite understand why you like that stuff so much. I’m sure Beth will agree once she’s tasted some fresh AB negative.” He smiled, and turned to close the door quietly behind him, leaving an uncomfortable silence in the room. I remained where I was, arms wrapped around Mick’s shoulders, nestled into his lap. I leaned my head down on his shoulder, and I felt his chin rest on the top of my head, as he curled his fingers through my hair.

            “Mick,” I whispered, not entirely sure how to phrase what I was feeling.

            “I understand, Beth. He was a big part of your life. I feel awful, actually.”

            “No, you shouldn’t. It was my fault. Yes, Josh is wonderful, and funny and sweet, but it would’ve ended between us sooner or later. He’s tired all of the time, and suspicious, and I’m too focused on my work.”

            “Suspicious of what?” Mick asked, his heartbeat picking up slightly.

            “He thought that I might have feelings for someone else.”

            I looked up at him and smiled.

            “He knows you well,” Mick said, smiling sadly, stroking my hands in between his.

            “How should I…how should I tell him?” I asked, biting my lip. Mick sighed heavily.

            “Well, in person would be best, but since that’s out, you’re welcome to my phone line.”

            “I guess…and probably sooner than later. But not tonight,” I closed my eyes and shook my head, dreading the phone call I had to make, but thankful for the fact that I wouldn’t be able to see the heartbroken expression on his face when I did. I focused on a happier topic to occupy my mind.

 

• • •

            “So,” she said, with a little smile that I was certain was fake, “we’re living together?”

            That caught my attention, pulling me away from the horrible thoughts that had consumed me while talking about her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend Josh. Admittedly, I hadn’t given him much thought since Beth had come over. Only when I started thinking seriously about the changes we’d need to make in her life, did I finally address the complication. She had a boyfriend, and instead of doing the right thing and trying not to think about her in the romantic sense, like I had been doing for the past few months, I kissed her, turned her into a bloodsucking monster like me, and continued to place my hands in areas that were entirely inappropriate for colleague contact. I stole her from him. I had absolutely no right.

            But there was nothing I could do now. I’d turned her, and she couldn’t be near him, for at least a few weeks, if she was lucky and adjusted quickly. Maybe she would go back to him. Maybe I’d put in all of my effort and trust just to lose her like I did everyone else. But her happiness came first, it always did. And if she wanted to, I would let her go. She thought she loved me. Maybe if I believed strongly enough, it would be true. For now, she was my Beth, and that was good enough for me.

            “For a little while, until you can…adjust,” I responded, trying to smile and failing miserably. She could see it, because her smile vanished, replaced with worry lines that creased her pretty forehead. She averted her eyes to her lap, picking at the strings of her sweatpants, and then looked up suddenly.

            “Mick,” she whispered, “what are we?”

            Taking advantage of this moment to make her smile, I said, “Vampires, love.”

            Her lips scrunched up in a smirk and she rolled her eyes.

            “You know what I mean.”

            “What would you like us to be?” I asked, cautiously. She shrugged her shoulders, so I continued, “Well…dating, I suppose.” I glanced at her quickly, anxiously anticipating her response. I would become whatever she was most comfortable with. Luckily, her lips turned up into a half smile.

            “It’s all a bit backwards, isn’t it? You saved me when I was a little girl, killed my kidnapper, who happened to be your ex-wife, protected me throughout my entire life, saved me more times than I can count in the past few months, turned me into a vampire, and now we’re taking it slow?”

            She smiled at me, and I felt my heart rise in my chest. She wanted more. With me. She wasn’t afraid. So that makes one of us.

            “Do we at least get to share a bed? A double-wide freezer, perhaps?” She giggled.

            Oh. She wanted _more_. I cleared my throat, suddenly embarrassed.

            “I thought you’d want your own room, so I figured the guest room—”

            “The guest room has a queen-sized bed. Very big for just one person.”

            “Yes, well, I never actually have anyone stay. Family’s been gone for a while, and I sleep in an icebox. It’s for appearances. The two-bedroom apartment had a nicer view.” Suddenly I was rambling on about apartment views and LA’s criminal prices. She smiled, pouting her lips slightly in a way that was very difficult to ignore.

            “I think,” she said as she leaned in close to me, pressing her lips against my throat, “that I can give you a nicer one.” She began to sit up, repositioning herself so that she was straddling my lap again, like we’d done before Josef had interrupted. Only this time, it made me nervous. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and began kissing the length of my neck. Her hands wove into my hair, and her lips found mine, taking my bottom lip in between hers and nibbling on it softly. I kissed her back slowly, trying to avoid letting it get too out of hand. But she wasn’t having any of that. Her tongue darted out of her mouth, tickling the edge of my lips, and slid easily into mine. I stifled a moan and pulled her away, knowing that if this continued, we would both end up in my cramped, built-for-one freezer, neither of us sleeping.

            “Beth, no, I can’t…I mean, we can’t. You’re technically still with Josh. We’ve already ripped the dignity of your relationship to shreds, but this would just…” I trailed off, forgetting the end of that sentence as her teeth nibbled along my ear. She pulled back, her lips now in a full pout.

            “Must you always be so old-fashioned?”

            “It’s a curse, really. But I will admit, I like you wearing my clothes,” I smiled.

            “You can take my freezer tonight. I’ll set up a makeshift bed for myself in the bathtub. I’ve got a storage of economy-sized bags of ice for just such an occasion.”

            “Thank you,” she whispered, kissing my forehead once and starting to get up from her position on my lap. She stretched her arms up above her head, and I couldn’t help but watch as the hem of the t-shirt rose, revealing her stomach. I sighed heavily as I remembered the panties that lurked beneath those sweatpants. I’d spent months in the company of Beth with the impression that I’d never even get the chance to kiss her. This was so much more than I had expected. I could wait a few more weeks. I could wait for however long she needed, if it meant starting something worthwhile. I smiled at her and took her hand, leading her up the stairs to my bedroom.

            It was a modest set up; hardwood floor, black throw rug near the entrance, untouched ceiling fan with decorated lights overhead, and a desk in the corner, scattered with files and papers of previous and current cases. In the center of the room was my freezer. Stainless steel. Gorgeous. Loved her and hated her all at the same time, for making me so dependent on her resources. And tonight I was giving her up so Beth could spend her first night as a vamp as comfortable as she possibly could be. I lifted up the lid of the freezer, smiling at the way the mist curled up in spirals, like smoke, welcoming me in.

            “This,” I said, as I lifted the heavy lid with ease, “is your bed for the evening. Shower’s around the corner, and through that door,” I finished, pointing rather unhelpfully out into the hall. She giggled and took a few steps toward me.

            “Thank you,” she said again, leaning in close and wrapping her arms around my waist. She leaned her head on my shoulder and breathed in deeply. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer to my chest, and rested my chin on top of her head.

            “I’ll tell Josh tomorrow,” she whispered, sighing. “The sooner the better.”

            I wanted to ask her if she was sure, but knew that it was pointless. Of course she couldn’t see him in the state she was in. She’d attack anyone right now, with no regard to the relation she had to them. Mostly I was dying to know if her decision was permanent, or if she would somehow try to make it work between her and Josh again. Maybe she’d turn him too. And we’d be stuck in this eternal, miserable triangle of unrequited love. But I couldn’t dwell on that now. If that time came, then I’d have to let her go. I just wish it didn’t make my chest cave in on itself every time I thought about it. I forced a smile for her.

            “And tomorrow, Josef and I will go to your apartment and collect anything you’d like us to get for you, and bring it here. We’ll also pick you up a few supplies along the way. I have to try and remember where I got my freezer. They just don’t make them like her anymore.”

            “Her? Does she have a name?” Beth smirked at me.

            “Josef has taken to calling her Sophia,” I laughed.

            Beth slowly shook her head at me, stifling a yawn. I smiled, quite exhausted myself, and kissed her on the cheek.

            “Goodnight, Beth,” I said sleepily, before pulling away from her and closing the door behind me. I trudged down the steps, opened the door to my refrigerator and pulled out six large bags of ice from the icebox. Ripping open the bags with my teeth, I poured the contents into the bathtub, filling it completely. I stripped off my pajama pants and boxer shorts, slid in gently, letting the cold ice soothe my skin, and drifted off into a comfortable sleep.


	3. Forever

            I’ll admit, I was a little shocked and disoriented when I woke up inside an industrial freezer. But I got used to the idea rather quickly, pushing up on the lid and stretching as I observed the remarkable difference between the bed and the humid Los Angeles air. Surprising, given that it was November. But I figured that even the coldest weather would feel comfortable at best to me now.

            “Good morning, Sophia,” I said, laughing at the fact that Mick’s bed had been christened with a name. I got up slowly, stretching my legs. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, laying on a hard, flat surface on my back, but I was sure that after fifty years or so, I’d get used to it. I’d slept in just my bra and underwear, thinking it fruitless to fall asleep in a freezer in such warm, baggy pajamas. Excited to see what Mick was up to, I hastily pulled on the gray t-shirt and raced out of the door, intentionally abandoning the sweatpants. I was greeted by the quiet whirring of his refrigerator and the bluish glow of the clock on the kitchen counter. I crept slowly into the bathroom, where I assumed he’d be sleeping, but found it empty, the ice melting into bathwater in his absence.

            I searched the apartment, the guest room, even the room I’d just exited, but couldn’t find him. Slumping onto the leather couch and tucking my feet underneath me, I willed myself not to stare at the phone on the counter in the kitchen. I felt like it was taunting me, reminding me of the number of painful phone calls I’d have to make today. I grabbed my cell phone from where Mick must have placed it on the coffee table, and began flipping through my contacts. I pressed the little M on the touch screen, held my breath, and dialed my boss, the head editor of Buzzwire.

            “Maureen, hi,” I said timidly.

            “Beth, thank goodness. I’d been trying to contact you all day. Where have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?” Maureen’s sharp voice chastised me from the other end.

            “I’m sorry, I…I overslept I guess. It’s been a busy night,” I said truthfully.

            “Well, what are you waiting for? Get down here. I’ve got a fresh story for you.”

            “Actually, that’s the thing. I…I can’t come down today, or…for a while, actually,” I finished lamely, cursing myself for not having planned this out. Silence followed my confession, and I used that time to think up a proper excuse for why I wouldn’t be coming into work for the next couple of weeks.

            “My…grandmother…recently passed away,” I said, biting my lip nervously.

            “Oh, Beth, I’m so sorry to hear that. Was this the one in Ireland?”

            I didn’t have a grandmother, or any other family members for that matter, in Ireland, but I decided to bite.

            “Yes! That’s the one. She and I were very close, and well, it’s in her will that she wanted to be buried in Ireland. It’s very important that I attend the funeral.”

            “Oh, well, of course. I understand. So you’ll need a few weeks then?” She asked, more concerned for the amount of news she’d be missing in my absence than of my feelings toward the death of my nonexistent Irish grandmother.

            “A month at least,” I urged, and then politely added, “I’m so sorry about this, Maureen.”

            “Beth, don’t be ridiculous. We have plenty of staff here to cover your stories, and in the meantime, we’ll hire some extra temp help. Good luck with everything, and pass on my condolences to your family,” she said sweetly.

            “Thank you,” I responded, and I could hear the faintest hint of a frustrated sigh and an oncoming fit in the way she said goodbye. But I couldn’t think about her right now. I’d succeeded, and that was what was important. Now for the most difficult phone call I’d ever have to make. I held the phone steadily in my hands, trying to stop them from shaking. Scrolling through my contacts, I found his name easily. Ironically, Mick’s name came right after his on my contacts list. I pressed his name on the touch screen, and then hit call. It rang twice before he picked up, answering in his usual friendly, calming, and comfortable voice. I cringed at the idea of breaking this man’s heart, but carried on, because I knew that I had to. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just fake my death and move to Europe? Ireland, perhaps. Then I wouldn’t technically be lying to Maureen. No, Mick has a job here in California, and after I’ve adjusted, I’m not going to stay home all the time like some vampire housewife. This is the way it had to be. So I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and plunged.

            “Josh. Hi. I…we need to talk.”

 

• • •

            I woke up in a puddle. Well, actually, I woke up in a bathtub surrounded by melting ice, but if I had stayed asleep for a few more hours, undoubtedly that might’ve happened. I got up, stretching my arms and legs, and releasing my neck from its awkward position, vowing that I’d never sleep in a bathtub ever again. I stumbled out into the hall in my boxers, and glanced at the glaring digital clock: 8:00 a.m. I sighed, opened the fridge and downed a glass of A-positive, and then made my way upstairs.

            I started up the shower and glanced briefly into my room, where I noticed Beth’s clothes were scattered around the floor, the lid of the freezer still closed. Smiling, I wandered into the bathroom, and showered quickly, adoring the way the cold water contrasted with the warm Los Angeles air. I grabbed a pair of clean boxers, a black button-up shirt and some black pants from my dresser, as quietly as I could so that I wouldn’t wake her, and got dressed in the guest room. At the last minute, I spotted Beth’s phone on the kitchen counter where she’d abandoned it last night, and placed it on the coffee table so she could easily find it. Hastily shoving my phone into my back pocket, I put on my jacket and locked up the apartment, making my way out into street, and shielding my eyes from the bright California sun. Josef’s apartment was only a few blocks from mine, so it was an easy enough walk. Plus, I had plenty of time; no decent store opens until 10 a.m. anyway.

            I made my way into his apartment building, giving a curt nod to the doorman, and took the elevator to his flat. I barely even knocked on his door before he opened it, standing in the door frame wearing an expensive smoking jacket with a lit cigar in one hand, and a glass of whiskey in the other.

            “It’s 8 in the morning, man,” I said, laughing.

            “Yeah, well, you can barge over here without calling this early, I can drink this early.”

            “Fair enough,” I said, walking into his living room. His apartment was about three times the size of mine, with a fantastic view of the city through a large window that encompassed the entire back wall, and also acted as doors to the outdoor swimming pool. The only light in the room was that of the orange sun shining in through the window. He walked over to his kitchen counter, complete with built-in bar and held up the bottle of whiskey with raised eyebrows.

            “Drink?” he asked.

            “I’m good. Listen, I’ve got a favor to ask. Since Beth is staying with me for a while, she’s going to need a few things from her apartment.”

            “And you want me to accompany you in a little breaking and entering. Sure, I’ve got nothing else to do today,” he smiled, finishing off his glass and placing the bottle back in its cabinet, which I noticed contained a large variety of other bottles.

            “If you weren’t a vampire, I’d mark you as an alcoholic. They have groups for that,” I chuckled.

            “Yeah, well, I’m not human, so it doesn’t count. Why are you up so early? I’d have thought you’d be a bit tired out from last night,” he said, smirking and raising his eyebrows suggestively.

            “A bathtub isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to sleep,” I said, grimacing and stretching out the cramp in my neck.

            “Bathtub? Mick, you…where did Beth sleep?”

            “In my freezer,” I said. He rolled his eyes, his expression frustrated.

            “And why weren’t you up there with her? For God’s sake, you just _turned_ the woman.”

            “Because I wanted to give her some space and privacy. She’s technically still with that boyfriend, and I’m not going to ruin something that could end up being pretty fucking amazing over sex. She’s more important than that,” I said, growing annoyed.

            “And this has nothing to do with the fact that maybe you’re just afraid to get hurt?”

            I stopped then, and considered that. He’d hit a nerve, but he was right. Always could see right through me.

            “I don’t know. Maybe. After Coraline, I have very understandable trust issues,” I sighed.

            “I know. But she’s Beth, not Coraline. I think it’s time you let the past go. Stop hating what you are. What, you’re afraid she’ll run away? That human’s got nothing on you. She asked to be turned. When are you going to get it through your thick head that she loves you?” He smiled, but I just shook my head, wishing that I could believe it was true.

            “She only thinks she does. But she could always change her mind,” I sighed heavily.

            “And I’ll be waiting to mock you when she doesn’t. Now, where are we headed first?”

            “Well, Beth’s apartment. And then, freezer browsing, I suppose.”

            He slipped from the room and appeared half an hour later, dressed up in a red button down shirt and black dress pants, complete with a black jacket. He grabbed his keys from the wooden hanger and locked up his apartment, leading us outside to where his Ferrari was parked front and center.

            Breaking into Beth’s was easy enough, given that I’d had experience with many similar apartments in the area. I wasn’t sure which would have been worse, waking her up to ask her for her keys, or just taking them. Not that breaking and entering was respectful either, but I was already in, and there wasn’t much I could do about it now. I collected everything that I figured she might need right away. Soap, shampoo, deodorant. I raided her closet for a few shirts and pairs of jeans, and then turned hesitantly toward the dresser in the far corner of the room. Maybe I should have waited to get Beth’s permission before I started pawing through her underwear drawer, but I wasn’t about to let her go without, so I just picked up the first few pairs that I found, and put them into the duffle bag I’d brought along.

            Satisfied that I’d collected at least the bare essentials, I walked out into the living room, where Josef was waiting, tapping his foot impatiently and occasionally opening drawers and cabinets to try and keep himself busy. It was 11 a.m., and so I figured that every store we needed to hit today would be open by now. I double-checked the time, slid my phone back into my pocket, and carefully led us out into the hallway, unnoticed, securing the door behind me.

            “Next, we choose a freezer,” I said as we left the apartment building, and stepped out into the bright sun, slipping into the leather seats Josef’s car, one of his many conquests worthy of envy.

            “Brand names, Mick. What are we looking for? Kenmore, Bosch, Maytag, Whirlpool?”

            “You’ve been at this longer than I have. What would you recommend? I can’t even remember where I got mine.”

            “Of course you can’t. I bought that for you. They don’t make them like that anymore. We’ll have to settle for a modern brand.”  
            “You bought me that?” I stared at him incredulously.

            “Yeah. Saw that you put in an order for a cheap one when you moved first into your apartment, so I changed the order, and paid off the difference. You know nothing about quality or brand.” He smirked. I merely snorted and rolled my eyes.

            “You know, I wondered why it looked different when it arrived,” I said, and then added, “Well, thank you. She’s treated me well.”

            “Good old Sophia,” Josef laughed, shifting into drive, and pulling out into the road. We drove along in silence, occasionally nodding to the soft jazz emanating from the radio. He drove us into the center of town, to one of the many strip malls, lined with department stores.

            “Sears?” I asked, curiously.

            “Yeah. Best we can do until she can order top-quality offline,” he assured. I simply shrugged and followed him into the store, deciding that it was better to trust his judgment when it came to these kinds of things. Walking in public with Josef was always interesting, because no matter where we went, someone would always know him. I guess that happens when you’re as well off as Josef is. Today, however, it just consisted of a number of customers craning their necks from their places in line to get a better look at him, and employees stopping mid-sentence to stare as he made his way down the aisles until he found ‘Appliances.’

            “Alright, well, I think we’ve found what you’re looking for. How tall is Beth?” he asked, tapping his finger to his chin as he observed a large, white storage freezer by Maytag.

            “5’4’’?” I guessed.

            “Alright,” he said, passing on to the next one, which was stainless steel.

            “Can I help you folks?” A short, young woman with white blonde hair appeared, wearing a Sears uniform with a small red nametag that told us her name was Colleen. She bounced slightly as she spoke, eyeing up Josef shamelessly.

            “Yes, darling,” he said, employing his charming smile that no woman could resist.

            “We’re looking for a standard storage freezer, wide enough to fit—”

            “A number of large steaks. We’re starting up a small restaurant down the street.” I finished, knowing that Josef would end up luring this poor woman into his collection of human blood donors.

            “Oh, the two of you? Together?” The woman asked, her smile faltering.

            “No, we’re not _together_ ,” I started to say, but was interrupted by a large brunette woman entering from another aisle, dressed in similar, but more modest apparel to the young girl. She held a clipboard in one hand, and used the other to tap rhythmically on the wood with her fake red nails.

            “Colleen, you’re supposed to be on cashier duty. I’ll handle this,” she said, allowing the sulking blonde to cut past her and make her way up to the front, glancing back at Josef as she went.

            “Shame,” I heard him whisper, low enough so that the employee couldn’t hear.

            “Hello, boys, I’m Shauna, the assistant manager. What can I help you with?”

            “We’re looking for a high quality storage freezer. What brand would you suggest?” I asked.

            “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Any line that we carry is efficient. Were you looking for any style in particular?” She asked, eyeing up Josef in a similar way that Colleen had.

            “Not really, just one wide enough to hold any number of meats, and fish,” I answered.

            “Ah, entrepreneurs. I like the sound of that. Well, the Kenmore Elite is our top model.” She said as she showed us a row of storage freezers, varying in color and style. I flipped open my phone, and searched for Beth’s number, hitting “New Text Message” and typing in three words: _Black, White, or Silver?_ Waiting for her response, I glanced over at Josef, who had managed to strike up a conversation with the woman.

            “Oh, well, that sounds lovely,” she trilled, and then turned to me and asked, “Have you made a decision?”

            “Oh, I’m just going to consult with my partner first. He knows style better than I do,” I said.

            “Your partner. Oh, so you’re…oh! Well, he certainly does seem to have an eye for décor,” she said as she observed Josef’s apparel.

            “Oh, no, we’re not…when I said partner, I meant business part—”

            “Oh, come on, Mick, don’t be shy,” Josef cut me off mid-sentence, strolling over to where I stood, and annoyingly put his arm around my shoulder; a wide, mocking smile on his face. The assistant manager smiled at the pair of us, looking between the uncomfortable expression on my face, and the sarcastic smirk on Josef’s.

            “Well, I’ll just leave you two to your decision. Best of luck on the restaurant,” she said as she turned, clipboard still in hand, to address the newlywed couple checking out the line of refrigerators a few aisles down. I gently shoved Josef off of my shoulders and rolled my eyes at him.

            “Every time?” I asked. He couldn’t answer for a moment, he was laughing so hard.

            “Oh, come on, you have to admit that’s funny,” he said.

            “Shut up and help me pick out a freezer for Beth.”

            His laughing quieted down and he resumed composure, scanning the row of Maytags, glancing back and forth between the Kenmores and Amanas. Finally, his eyes settled on the last one in the row, a large, extra-wide Kenmore, available in white and silver. I looked at the price tag, not really caring, because I knew I would pay for it regardless. $2,000. Not terrible. My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I set the tag down and hastily retrieved it. It was a message from Beth. _White_ was all it said.

            “That settles it. This one. In white,” I said, flagging down the nearest employee. I placed the order, asking for same-day delivery, paid up front, and left the shop, Josef trailing behind me and still laughing. Next I stopped at Lowe’s, feeling the need to redecorate the guest room. I was glad for once that I had Josef with me, because admittedly, I was terrible when it came to interior decorating. It would have been easier to have Beth along, choosing her favorite colors, but Josef knew what women liked. We walked through the aisles, as he handed me paint sample after paint sample, scoffed at their small collection of curtains, and loaded my arms up with pamphlets about light fixtures and the quality of fabrics.

            “Okay, Josef, I’m not remodeling,” I said as I struggled to juggle the number of samples and pamphlets he’d collected.

            “You want her to like it, no?” He asked, turning around to examine the inner workings of a ceiling fan.

            “Here, you take these. Have fun examining lamps. I’m going to go pick out what I think she’ll like,” I said as I stuffed everything into the cart he’d picked up along the way. I grabbed another shopping cart from the front, winding up and down aisles, and finally came back to the register half an hour later, satisfied with my decisions. I chose a violet silk comforter with a white stitched floral pattern for the bed, and matching curtains for the windows. There was no need to repaint, as the room was already neutral beige, and I didn’t want to spend the time painting when she’d just be moving back to her apartment in a few weeks anyway. On the way to the register, I’d grabbed the box of a tall, elegant-looking black lamp and shoved that on top of everything else in the cart. Josef met me at the register, his cart filled with the same pamphlets. I raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

            “I’m thinking of remodeling,” he said, shrugging. He glanced over into my cart.

            “Purple. Nice. Very Beth. I rescind my previous comment judging your decorating skills.”

            The woman at the cash register scanned Josef’s items first, which mostly consisted of style magazines, as the samples were free. When she got to mine, and saw me chatting with Josef, she raised her eyebrow, probably wondering why two men were purchasing such feminine-looking items. I just shrugged at her, and kept my face straight, even though I could see Josef starting to laugh again. We loaded up the car, relaxed into the cool leather seats, and drove back to my apartment. Josef helped me carry everything in, and once inside, we wasted no time in taking the elevator, not desiring in the slightest to lug all of it up a dozen flights of stairs. I turned the key in the lock, excitement filling my chest at the thought of seeing Beth again.

            But when I entered the room, my smile immediately dropped, because there she was, coiled up on the couch wearing the same t-shirt and sweatpants, her head hung low, and her hands covering her face. I ran into the room and immediately sat beside her, placing my arms around her shoulders, rocking her back and forth. I brought her chin up with one of my hands, needing to see her face. Black lines from mascara ran down the length of her cheeks, her eyes swollen and red from crying. I brought her into a tight hug, understanding what had upset her.

            “Was it that bad?” I asked, feeling stupid, because I couldn’t think of anything else. She nodded into my shoulder, and I glanced at Josef, who was still standing in the doorway, and motioned for him to come in and close the door. Beth looked up suddenly.

            “Josef, hi. I’m sorry. I just…it’s been a rough first day,” she said, sniffling slightly and turning to face me. “He didn’t take it well.”

            “Did he get angry?” I asked, concerned.

            “No. That’s the thing. He didn’t get angry, or yell. He just…sort of accepted it. And then he started crying, so I started crying, and he asked if there was someone else. I didn’t want to lie, so I just remained as vague as possible. But I think he knows it’s you. I’ve told him I’ll be away for a while. He didn’t seem too keen on remaining friends, anyway. So I suppose that works out for the best. Also, if anyone asks, especially anyone from Buzzwire, I’m in Ireland attending my grandmother’s funeral.”

            I raised my eyebrows, but didn’t question it. We’ve all had to fabricate blatant lies at some point or another.

            “Yeah, and Josef and I are opening up a restaurant down the street,” I said, smiling.

            “What?”

            “Nothing. Your new bed will be here in a few hours. In the meantime, I thought we’d pay a visit to the morgue. Get an idea for your favorite blood type. After all, we’re going to have to start ordering double,” I said, rubbing her shoulders and trying to ease the tension. She perked up at that thought. Even when she was a human, the idea of the morgue intrigued her. Never could quite understand her fascination with the macabre. She sniffled again, and glanced over at the bags that Josef had dropped off by the door.

            “Shopping?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

            “Yeah, well, I wanted you to feel at home here,” I said. Her eyes lit up and she leaned forward to kiss me full on the lips, her little hands tangling through my hair.

            “Thank you,” she whispered, “for all of this. For everything.” I hugged her, nestling my face into her hair and breathing in deeply. I had desperately missed her scent all day. After I was sure that I had cheered her up slightly, I suggested she change into the new clothes I had brought over for her, and promised that if she gave me a specific list, I would return, with her keys this time, and bring back anything from her apartment that she wanted or needed. While I relaxed with Josef in the living room, she showered and dressed, reappearing back down the steps half an hour later in a pair of tight blue jeans, a white striped shirt, and a cream colored jacket, her hair tied up loosely in a ponytail.

            “Ready?” she asked, joining us in the living room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

            “Shoes! I knew I’d forgotten something,” I said, noticing how her feet squeezed rather uncomfortably into the heels. She shrugged it off and looked at us expectantly. We took my car this time, as it was far less flashy and conspicuous than Josef’s. The morgue was close by, just a few blocks down from my apartment. We parked outside, and I had only knocked twice before the door to the lab opened and out stepped Guillermo, an old friend of mine that had gotten to know Beth in the last couple of months, as we both had a habit of showing up here for the same cases.

            “Mick, Josef, nice to see you. Beth, are you…?” he trailed off, sniffing the air around her in confusion. He glanced over at me with raised eyebrows and then at Beth, smiling.

            “Welcome to the club,” he said, turning back around to attend to the cadaver.

            “What can I do for you three?” he asked.

            “We’re here to sample blood types,” I said casually, as though that were a perfectly normal reason to show up uninvited at 6 p.m. at the morgue.

            “Makes sense,” he said, nodding, “Girl’s gotta have her choices.”

            He pulled open a cabinet that held a number of vials with brightly colored labels, which I assumed were his secret, personal storage of snacks for the nights he worked overtime. He returned a few moments later, holding a handful of the small tubes of blood.

            “We’ve got AB-negative, Josef’s favorite; A-positive, which you probably already know is Mick’s; O-positive, my personal favorite, and then the usuals: A, B, O and AB, positive and negative.”

            “Wow, vampires are efficient,” she breathed, steadying herself as she eyed up the vials hungrily. She took the O-positive from his hands first, and opened the vial. Guillermo handed her a tiny straw and she sipped, making a grimace.

            “It’s a little bitter,” she said. “Can I try the positive?”

            We handed her vial after vial, trying to gauge her interest. The O-positive turned out to be too sweet, and the AB-negative was too strong. Josef frowned at that particular observation. She took the last vial, which was the A-positive, and held the straw to her lips. Her eyes closed and she moaned softly as she nearly drained the tiny vial.

            “This one,” she said, nodding, and smiling up at me. I smiled back at her, delighted that we had similar tastes. Josef rolled his eyes and mumbled something about non-fat soy vegan blood. We grabbed a couple of bags Guillermo had been saving for me, piled them into my coat pockets, and left the morgue, wishing Guillermo a good night. I drove with my arm around Beth in the passenger’s seat, while Josef made comments about my driving from the back, demanding I change the radio to the jazz station, instead of the classical. We parked in front of my building, behind Josef’s car, making mine look like scrap metal in comparison. Josef bade us goodnight, and drove off in his Ferrari, assuring us that he’d stop by soon.

            I led the way to my floor, with my arm wrapped around her waist, and let us into my apartment. I flicked on a few of the lights, dim enough so that they wouldn’t harm her eyes, and piled our shared stock of A-positive into the fridge. I helped her set up her new room, which she assured me that she loved, and thanked me multiple times for having chosen her favorite color for the bedspread, even if it was just for decoration. Around 7:30 p.m., her freezer arrived, and I had to tell the man repeatedly that we would be able to move and set it up on our own. He left, looking slightly confused, but choosing not to question why a couple living together would require a full storage freezer in their apartment, when they already had a refrigerator.

            She seemed to love her new bed, admiring the way the air rose out of the box in spirals, cooling her face as she leaned in and examined how wide and comfortable it looked. She mentioned the hard, flat surface in the bottom of mine, and asked how I managed to sleep on that. I merely shrugged, and told her I’d just gotten used to it.

            “Maybe we can put some cushions in yours, make it more comfortable,” I suggested.

            She got up from her kneeling position beside the freezer and made her way over to where I stood in the middle of the guest room. She placed her hands around my neck, lacing her fingers into the strands of my hair and pulling me in close to her. I kissed her lips softly, needing to feel them against mine. She kissed back more fiercely, pulling me impossibly closer, massaging my tongue with hers. After a few moments, she pulled back and looked up at me, her eyes trailing down my face and chest. They were visibly less red, but not enough so that she could mingle amongst society and pass as a normal human being. I wondered how long that it would take, and if my fear of her choosing Josh was irrational.

            “You are truly wonderful, Mick,” she said, placing a small kiss on my lips, making my heart swell, and the need to be close to her a necessity. I couldn’t help it. I scooped her up in my arms and hugged her tightly to my chest, burying my face in her hair, and found her ear.

            “I love you,” I whispered, imagining that I could feel the emotion pour out of me and into her as I said it, but also feeling slightly embarrassed at my random proclamation. To my immense relief, however, she lifted her head and pressed her lips lightly against my ear.

            “I love you too,” she whispered.

            We stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, breathing in the unique scent of one another that both of us so desperately needed. In that moment, I couldn’t be bothered to think about how big of a mistake this might have been, or how it had affected Josh. I couldn’t even concentrate on my fear of losing her, should she decide she still wanted him, because it didn’t matter. Seeing her happy was more important than anything, and hearing her express her love for me was more than I’d ever expected. Whatever this was between us, and whatever it became, I would take it graciously.

            I closed my eyes and held onto her, basking in the feeling of her face resting on my shoulder, pressing against my cheek, the way the curves of her body matched mine perfectly, and the way our hearts beat in synchronized rhythm, content in one another’s embrace.


End file.
